Too Many Words
by imaginationismymuse
Summary: Loving each other was the end game and it was time for the chase to end. She needed to stop running. He needed to step out of his family's hold. All easier said than done when that is all you've had. A short story in which Katherine, now a vampire, comes to New Orleans to find Elijah.
1. Chapter 1

**So, here it is! The promised first revamped chapter of _Too Many Words_. I apologize for it taking so long but life caught up with me and I've had little time for anything else. If you've read my oneshot _Reflection_ then you'll recognize the beginning. _Reflection _was going to be the beginning for _Too Many Words _but it didn't fit. Anyways, enjoy this and there will be more to come!  
**

* * *

**Too Many Words****  
\- Sick Puppies  
**  
I've tried to balance these lives that we are living  
You always feel justified but you never feel forgiving  
I woke up one morning to find myself wrapped in the things I swore I'd never touch  
And here I am again trying to save what's left of you and I  
So why aren't you satisfied?

I reached out, fell short  
Now you're hurt, too many words  
Breaking the silence  
I felt it, bled it, screamed it  
It only gets worse  
And it kills me what's in me, too angry for us to survive  
I used too many words tonight

I tried to get it right  
But I was just wastin' my time  
'cause you never compromised when it came to us  
We struggle and fall apart, we build it back to static start  
The endless accusations, I can't believe we made it this far

I reached out, fell short  
Now you're hurt, too many words  
Breaking the silence  
I felt it, bled it, screamed it,  
It only gets worse  
And it kills me what's in me too angry for us to survive  
I used too many words tonight

Waking alone tomorrow, has gotta be better than this

I reached out, fell short  
Now you're hurt, too many words  
Breaking the silence  
I felt it, bled it, screamed it,  
It only gets worse  
I used too many words tonight  
Too many words  
Too many words  
Too many words  
Too many words

* * *

_Part one_

_Human_. The word tasted like dirt on her tongue. _Human_. She gave a shudder. She had been a pitiful, oh so delicate _human_. A scowl marred her forehead, fingers gripping the steering wheel until she had to remind herself that she was, in fact, a vampire and things such as leather and plastic were all too breakable. She took a deep breath, let it out. Her fingers relaxed their death grip. Katherine repeated the process.

_In and out. In and out. _

It was not to quell her temper that she did this, though anyone who knew Katherine would have assumed this. It was for the fear, the all-consuming panic that constricted around her chest like a python. She forced more air into her lungs.

_In and out. In and out.  
_  
Being human again was too close to what she had felt all those years ago, when she had found out what it meant to wear _this _face, _her _face. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over her head. All the wounds she'd thought healed had been ripped open, had salt rubbed in them.

_In and out. In and out. _

Katherine had always said that humanity was a useless, tedious thing. She had spoken of it flippantly, like it was nothing but an irritation for her. A mere inconvenience. There had never been a greater lie. Humanity was the one thing Katherine feared above all, above even Klaus. Humanity meant being beaten down, used, abused, discarded like rubbish, left to rot. It was synonymous with weakness and pity and _death_. Synonymous with everything she had been and refused to be again. _Couldn't _be again.

_In and out. In and _–

_Stop it_, she ordered herself. _You're not human. There's no need to behave like one. _She straightened, focusing on the road ahead of her as she wound her way through a city she hadn't been in for fifty years. _You're not human, Katherine._

And she thanked whoever was up there for that small reassurance.

There were more important things to worry about than her recent mortality. While she might not be human, she could very well be dead within the next five minutes if the universe wasn't on her side. She snorted, shaking her head. In that case coming here, to New Orleans, had been like signing a suicide note.

* * *

Her headlights reflected off the windows of the old colonial mansion, tires crunching on the gravel, as she pulled up outside. She cut the engine and climbed out, eyes never leaving the front door. The dread that gripped her now was not dissimilar to earlier. This time, however, it was not behind her but laid out in front of her. It did not approach her. It was almost as if it knew it would not need to. She was all but offering herself up to it. To Klaus.

Katherine wouldn't turn around though. Her entire self screamed at her, every instinct telling her to get back in that car and drive until New Orleans was nothing but specks of light in her rearview mirror. And she wanted to, wanted to but couldn't. She wasn't here for her, after all. She was here for him.

_Elijah. _

She drew both comfort and pain from his name. Comfort because she knew without a sprinkle of doubt that he would protect her, if not for her then for the feelings he used to have. Elijah was a man who respected the past, _their_ past.

There was pain because he'd left her, left _her _for his _brother_. That had stung. It went deeper than a wounded pride though. Elijah Mikaelson had done what no man had done in five-hundred years. He had caused her to relinquish the one thing she'd sworn she never would.

Her heart.

She had given it to him, bruised and tender, and trusted him with it. She had _trusted _someone. And what had he done? He had shattered it, ground it under the heel of his expensive Italian shoes, claiming honour and duty whilst he did so. _Always and forever. _She sneered at the words. _Hypocritical, self-centred, back-stabbing bastard. _She should _loathe _him. And yet, here she was. Risking her life for him. She didn't feel like analysing the _whys_.

Katherine rapped on the front door, hoping against hope that Klaus wasn't in. It seemed she was in luck. The footsteps echoing from inside the house were distinctly female, unless Klaus had taken to wearing heels. The door opened and Hayley, her not-so-dead werewolf informant, appeared. Katherine blinked, thrown for a second. Hayley was _alive_; that meant Will was dead. _Of course. _In the moment it took for her to recalibrate, she heard it. The fluttering of a tiny heart. Her eyes followed the source of the sound to Hayley's swollen belly._ Pregnant_, she realized with no small amount of shock. _Just like you were_, her head reminded her.

Frightened. Alone. _Pregnant._

Katherine bit back a distressing wave of emotion as memories of her daughter sprung to the surface, of that precious little bundle being ripped away, the sound of her and the baby's cries. She swallowed the lump that had accumulated in her throat. _Get a grip, Pierce. You don't have time to walk down memory lane. _She turned her attention back to the werewolf, schooling her features into her trademark smirk.

"Hayley, what a pleasant surprise."

"Likewise," Hayley replied stiffly.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked, voice arrogant.

"No," came the short answer.

Katherine stuck her foot out, preventing the door from being slammed in her face. That was _not_ something she would stand for. "That wasn't a question, wolf."

"It sure as hell sounded like one," Hayley snapped.

Katherine chuckled. It was a cold, mirthless sound. One that sounded foreign to Katherine, almost as if it didn't _fit _her. She pushed her hesitance away, this was _not _the time for her humanity to show up, and shoved passed the werewolf, striding into the foyer. Her heels clicked satisfactorily against the gleaming floorboards. She took in the lavish decorations and gave a nod of approval. Hayley watched on warily as Katherine reached out to run elegant fingers along the rich, smooth mahogany mantelpiece.

"I must admit, Klaus has good taste." She turned her head, catching Hayley's eye. "In most things anyway."

The werewolf resisted the urge to snarl. "What do you want, Katherine?"

There was no doubt in Hayley's mind that this was Katherine Pierce, the bitch who had tried to have her killed, who had lied to her, used her. Elena was too pure, even when she'd had her emotions turned off. Elena was naïve; Katherine had never been naïve. Elena could never have scared Hayley; Katherine _terrified_ her.

"Nothing much, wolf," came the flippant reply.

Hayley squared her shoulders and scowled. "Tell me or you'll wish you'd stayed under whatever rock you crawled out from."

Katherine glanced over at the werewolf and quirked an eyebrow, amused. "I see you're still pissed."

"You tried to have me killed," Hayley retorted. "Sue me for feeling a little bitter."

Shrugging, Katherine strolled into the living room and poured herself some bourbon from the decanter that sat on the piano. She tossed it back and began pouring herself another. She had to commend Klaus on his taste in alcohol. The man had a knack for it, like killing and torturing.

"Is that the only thing you feel bitter about, wolf?" she asked when she heard Hayley come up behind her.

"What are you talking about?"

Katherine tilted her glass in the direction of Hayley's baby bump. "You're knocked up, cupcake." She lifted the tumbler to her lips. "Tell me, how's Klaus dealing with impending fatherhood?"

Hayley stiffened and Katherine knew she'd been right in her assumption that Klaus was the father. It was a simple conclusion. Why else would Klaus want a pregnant werewolf around if the child was not his? Katherine watched the fear Hayley had so brilliantly been managing to hide seep onto her face, hands clutching at her stomach. Katherine remembered that fear, the fear for a child, for _her _child. It was a fear that clamped around your heart until there was nothing else but it. Her expression, against her will, softened a fraction.

"I'm not here to harm you or the baby, Hayley." Her voice was almost soft, almost kind. "I'm here to talk to Elijah. That's all."

Hayley didn't relax for a second. It was understandable; Katherine _had _tried to kill her once. "He's not here."

"I can wait," Katherine replied, settling herself on one of the sofas with another glass of bourbon. "I have all the time in the world."

* * *

There was a knock at the front door and Katherine paused in the act of swirling her fourth glass of bourbon. Her head tilted slightly. She could hear the measured beating of a heart, a _vampire's _heart. It wasn't Elijah's, nor was it Klaus', nor Rebekah's. She knew theirs as well as her own.

She was immediately cautious. A natural response for someone who had spent five-hundred years surviving on caution and ruthlessness alone. There was an unknown vampire outside that was most probably stronger than her and she had no idea whether or not it was friend or foe.

"Were you expecting someone?" she asked Hayley.

The werewolf shook her head, still wary enough of the vampire sitting across from her not to lie. "No."

Another thought occurred to Katherine and her expression darkened. "Who did you call, wolf?"

"I've been with you the entire time," Hayley pointed out indignantly. "How could I have?"

"Stay here then and be quiet," she told Hayley. Katherine squared her shoulders, slipping into her Katherine Pierce façade like an old glove. "This won't take long."

With slow, calculated footsteps, she approached the front door and opened it, leaning against the frame, hand on her hip. It was a standard Katherine disarming tactic. Her body was her most lethal weapon and she knew how to wield it. A tall vampire with dark skin and even darker eyes stood before her. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

"And you are?" she asked, giving him a once over; he was handsome, smooth, oozing charisma.

"Marcel Gerard." _Ah_, Katherine thought to herself. _Klaus' protégé. The self-proclaimed king of New Orleans_. She watched as his eyes ran over her curves, his lips curving in appreciation. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you before."

"Probably because I'm not usually within sniffing distance of Klaus. You'll have heard of me though," she told him confidently. "I'm Katherine Pierce." A knowing light came to his eyes and her lips twisted into a smirk. "Thought so."

"Well well, it _is_ a pleasure to meet you, Ms Pierce."

He lifted a hand to his lips and she tried not to yank her hand away. She didn't want him touching her. Unusual, she knew, but there was only one man she wanted right now. She kept a pleasant expression plastered on her face. Marcel was older than her and he had a legion of vampire followers behind him. She had to be careful or Klaus would be the least of her worries.

"The feeling's mutual," she said, subtly wiping her hand on the back of her jeans. "What do you want?"

From his expression, it seemed he appreciated her ballsy attitude. "Can I come in?"

"Afraid not. The master of the house isn't here at the moment." There was steel in her voice, steel that Hayley had to admire. The women was a force of nature. "I'll be sure to tell him you dropped by."

Marcel's hand flashed out, preventing her from closing the door. "That wasn't a question, princess."

"That's funny," Katherine chirped, narrowing her eyes. "I don't care."

His expression hardened then relaxed into casual charm. She knew it was purposeful. A tactic to let her know that he was _letting _her get away with it. _You're walking on thin ice, Katherine_, she thought to herself and something knotted in her stomach.

"You obviously don't know how things work around here," he said. "So I'll let that one go."

"I think I can guess," Katherine drawled, stepping out onto the porch. She circled him, running her fingertips along his muscled bicep. "You tell people to jump, they ask how high. You're the _king_."

He chuckled. "Sounds about right."

Katherine leaned in close, lips brushing his earlobe. "Unfortunately for you, I don't _jump _for anyone. Least of all for the likes of _you_."

Before Marcel had time to react, Katherine had snapped his neck. His body fell to the floor like a lead ball and her shoulders sagged with relief. She'd almost felt _scared_ for a second there, a second when she'd been sure he was going to discover that she wasn't five-hundred years old anymore. It was becoming harder, she found, to keep up the image of Katherine Pierce, ruthless and cold-hearted, when these emotions kept battering her from all sides. She felt like a shell being tossed around in the waves.

Hayley emerged from the lounge, grudging admiration in her eyes. The werewolf had never liked Katherine, especially after the brunette had broken her promise to help her find her family, but even Hayley had to admit that she had a flair about her, so unlike her boring, compassionate, moralistic counterpart.

"I knew there was something I liked about you," she said by way of thank you, toeing Marcel's temporarily dead body with the tip of her boot. "Though I must admit you kind of ruined it when you tried to have me killed."

Katherine never took her eyes off Marcel. "He's not going to be down for long and when he wakes he's going to be pissed." Her voice was low and urgent. "You need to get out of here. Is there anywhere safe you can go?"

Confused by her odd behaviour, Hayley nodded. "I know a place where vampires can't enter."

"How far away is it?"

"Not far."

Marcel's fingers began to twitch and Katherine all but shoved Hayley out the door, handing her the keys to her car. "Go there and stay there. Don't come back."

The Katherine in her was yelling, asking her what the hell she was doing. What the hell _was _she doing? She didn't know. That was the problem. She _should _be getting out of here before anyone realized she was a newborn but a part of her - the sweet peasant girl - also told her that she couldn't leave this poor, pregnant werewolf. It told her that she had to make sure Hayley didn't become a bargaining chip, didn't become embroiled in all this, didn't become like _her_. Katherine didn't like the werewolf but she would never willingly wish this life on anyone. Except, perhaps, Elena.

"Leave," she ordered again when Hayley didn't move.

The werewolf hesitated; there was something odd about Katherine. She wasn't acting like herself. Hayley knew her and the stories enough to know this. "What about you?"

Katherine flashed her a grin, letting her fangs show. "I can take care of myself."

Hayley nodded and moved as fast as her pregnant belly would allow her. Her instinct to protect her child overrode her sudden concern for Katherine Pierce. Katherine waited until the car had pulled away from the street and the sound of the engine had faded into the traffic before she turned back to Marcel. She would stall him as long as she could, as long as it took for Hayley to get away.

She knew how out of character this was for her. She had come to the realization that she didn't care. The name _Katherine Pierce_ was beginning to fade and the legend was becoming further and further from the truth. Katherine was finding herself being weighed down by the enigma, by the legend. She had always taken pride in who she was, in _what _she was. Revelled in it. Now it tired her. Instead of wearing the disguise, the disguise was wearing her. And it was heavy.

Marcel gasped and sat up, eyes wide and dazed, tearing her from her thoughts. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest, smirking down at him.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," she drawled. "Nice nap?"

His head snapped in her direction and in the blink of an eye, he slammed her into the wall, causing the whole house to shudder and her to gasp. She _felt _the bruises forming. Her pride was bruised as well. When had it come to this?

"What the hell did you do, Katherine?" he demanded.

Katherine shrugged. "I stalled. I thought it was obvious."

"Why are you _helping _Klaus?"

She shoved him off her, not letting on that it had taken most of her strength to do so. "Why are _you _against him?" she asked. "Didn't he save you from a miserable, painful fate as a slave? Seems a little ungrateful to me."

Marcel growled at her, lunging. She darted out the way but wasn't quite fast enough and his blow sent her crashing onto the hard wooden floor. Blood dripped from her broken nose, falling onto the wooden floorboards beneath her. It had been a while since someone had managed to do that, to catch her off guard and she cursed her doppelganger. If she had the time, Katherine would see Elena rot in hell. She had to wait for a moment as her jaw and nose healed then she got to her feet and faced Marcel.

"That was rude," she stated, unfazed. She could taste her own blood as it dripped from her nose over her lips.

His hand circled her throat, crushing it until she began to see black spots. She hadn't even seen him coming at her. "Why are you here, Katherine?"

"Why are _you _here?" she rasped; she wanted to piss him off. "Perhaps this is why Klaus has almost succeeded in taking your kingdom. You get distracted so _easily_."

It worked. His eyes turned red and veins rippled from beneath them. "If you won't tell me," he said, voice cold, "then I'll just have to torture it out of you."

"You're welcome to try," she spat.

"I intend to."

He snapped her neck and Katherine's world went black.

* * *

When Elijah returned home, the first thing he did was call for Hayley. Though his brother's paranoia had created the illusion that Elijah was falling for the young werewolf, Elijah knew this to be false. Hayley held the hope for his brother's redemption. The hope that his family could be reunited. That was all. He gravitated towards her as a companion, a friend for she reminded him of _her_, of Katerina. Hayley had that same spitfire attitude, that same callousness he somehow found endearing. He was fond of Hayley; he was in love with Katerina. He still felt that love resonate within him.

"Hayley," he called again.

His brow furrowed when he got no reply. Moving through the house as a blur, he checked her room but there was no trace of her. His nostrils flared. She had been here, not long ago; her scent of forest and gardenia's lingered. Where could she have gone? Perhaps to visit her werewolves in the bayou, or maybe she had convinced Rebekah to take her with.

He was just about to pull out his phone and call Rebekah when he noticed the droplets of blood on the foyer floor. There had been a fight. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he crouched down, dipped a finger into one of the small crimson puddles then brought it to his nose and inhaled. It was the cool, vanilla scent of a vampire's blood. He touched his finger to his tongue and drew in a sharp breath. He would know that taste anywhere; it was Katerina's blood. She had been here. Even as his heart sped up, dread filled him. What had she done?

He whipped out his phone and called Rebekah, who answered on the first ring. _"Goodbye means goodbye, Elijah –"_

"Is Hayley with you?" he interrupted her, hoping against hope that she was.

_"What?" _came Rebekah's reply. _"What's going on, Elijah?"_

"Katerina was here," he said through gritted teeth. "Hayley's missing."

There was a brief silence then Rebekah's feral snarl rung in his ears, echoing the monster inside him. It was accompanied by the screech of tires. _"I'm coming and when I find Katherine, I'm going to rip her to shreds. Don't you dare try and stop me, Elijah. Not even _you_ can save her this time."_

His sister hung up and the silence was deafening. Elijah straightened, staring at that crimson puddle, torn. His heart told him to warn Katerina but his head told him that it was time he let her go. This love for her would destroy him in the end. If it hadn't already. Perhaps it was time he listened to his head.

The door swung open and Klaus strode in. From the way his face was set, Elijah could tell he was furious. "Brother?"

"Marcel was here," Klaus said, voice colder than ice.

Elijah gestured to the blood on the floor and with three little words, he signed Katerina's death sentence. "As was Katerina."

Klaus's eyes flashed. "Katerina?" He made her name sound like a curse.

Elijah felt a part of him break. What had he done? "Hayley's missing, Niklaus."

Klaus's face darkened to a storm cloud, lightning snapping in his eyes. A car pulled up outside the house, headlights hitting the brothers. Klaus and Elijah's heads both snapped in its direction, watching with amazement as Hayley climbed out, hand across her swollen stomach. Elijah was by her side in an instant, hands resting on her shoulders.

She jumped slightly when he appeared then glared at him. "Don't_ do_ that, Elijah. You're going to give me a heart attack."

"Are you or the baby hurt?" he asked, searching her for any injuries.

"I'm fine. _We're _fine."

Klaus appeared beside them and his nostrils flared, veins rippling under his eyes. "This car reeks of Katerina Petrova."

"Well, that's because it's her car," Hayley said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where is she?" Elijah wanted to know, releasing her shoulders.

"Yes," Klaus put in, voice light. "Where is the lovely Katerina? I think she's past her sell-by date."

Hayley shook her head slowly, confusion clouding her face, and her next words told them why. "I know what you're thinking and you've got it wrong. Katherine didn't take me; she _helped _me."

Both brothers blinked at her words. "What?" Elijah finally said, not sounding as composed as he usually would.

"Katherine turned up" – she nodded at Elijah – "asking for you." She saw hope flash across Elijah's face before he hid it under his usual, stoic mask. "I told her you were out and she said she'd wait. Marcel showed up." Klaus let out a low hiss; his progeny would die for this. "She snapped his neck, gave me her car keys and told me to go."

Elijah just stared at her, disbelieving. Klaus clearly shared the same view and he eyed Hayley sceptically. "Have you been drinking, sweetheart?"

Hayley tossed her dark hair indignantly, chin lifting. "I'm telling the truth, Klaus. Katherine protected me from Marcel."

"Where is she then?" Elijah asked. He was trying to keep his emotions in check. A futile effort that had always been impossible when it concerned Katerina. "Katerina is older than Marcel and she's a formidable opponent. I doubt he could have taken her against her will."

"Perhaps, you're overestimating our dear Katerina," Klaus said bitterly. "Your fondness for her is clouding your senses."

"She managed to outsmart you for over five-hundred years, Niklaus," Elijah reminded him evenly. "Don't be such a fool as to pretend you don't know what she's capable of."

Klaus shrugged, brushing off his brother's words, a casual smile on his face. "It's not our problem anymore, brother. Let's not fight over it."

"You're _not_ going to help her?" Hayley asked, incredulous. "Granted, she's a complete bitch but she saved my life, Klaus."

"After she tried to end it, if you recall," Klaus pointed out.

"She didn't have to do that," Hayley continued as if he hadn't said anything. "If she hadn't been here, I would be with Marcel by now." She shuddered at the thought, fingers clutching her stomach tighter. "I would be _dead._"

"As heartfelt as that was, I'm going to have to decline. If we show an interest in retrieving Katerina, Marcel will have an advantage over us," Klaus told her. "I cannot allow that to happen."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother stiffen. Klaus sighed. His brother's affection for the firebrand doppelganger rivaled his devotion to Klaus. This was a fact Klaus knew all too well and was not inclined to accept. He needed absolute loyalty from his siblings, _especially _Elijah. Turning to face his eldest brother, he directed his next words at him.

"There can be _no _weaknesses in this game we're playing. Is that understood?"

Elijah's jaw was tight and his body was rigid but he managed a nod. "You have my word."

Klaus, satisfied at this for Elijah never broke his word, turned and blurred into the night. No doubt off to cause some poor soul unimaginable pain. Hayley, once she was sure Klaus was out of earshot, laid a hand on the eldest Original's arm. He glanced down at her. She saw the intention brimming in his dark eyes and a small smile tugged at her lips.

"You're not going to leave her." It wasn't a question.

His lips curved just a little. "I couldn't if I tried. I've never been able to leave Katerina."

Hayley nodded. "I'll cover for you. I may hate her but she saved my life. I don't take that lightly."

* * *

**So, better or worse? Lemme know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter two! New and improved. This one is quite different from the original. I was in the mood. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and please continue to do so. There is nothing more encouraging than seeing reviews!**

**To guest reviewer ScarletRose: Thank you so much for your review! Your review got me when I was in a rut and I finished this piece in one day after reading your review. :) I just want to mention that I don't think Klayley is right for this story. It's probably going to be a five shot and I don't want to cram another ship into it. I want to focus on Kalijah. Perhaps I'll do a spinoff on this story for Klayley but not in this particular story. Sorry. :( If you have an idea of what you want to see in a Klayley then PM me.**

**Thanks again to everyone! **

**\- imaginationismymuse  
**

* * *

_Part two_

Regret.

There were many reason why sane individuals avoided it.

It thrived on weakness, on the past, on the unchangeable. It was immutable. Even the strongest suffered from it.

It ate at happiness. Regret had a habit of hiding itself until joy was felt then it resurfaced to taint the moment with guilt.

It was ageless. It never forgave and it never forgot.

Regret was something Elijah knew all too well.

It hadn't occurred often over the long years, Elijah was, after all, the _honourable_ brother, but when it did occur, it tormented him. Katerina tormented him. The illusive search for her love _tormented_ him. No matter where he went or what he did, she was everywhere. In mirrors. In windows. In still puddles on dirt-ridden streets. He could see her in all these places, just watching him with those firebrand eyes, _tormenting _him with her full lips.

He splashed water on his face, trying to clear his head of her. It didn't work. It never did.

Staring at his reflection, there were no obvious signs of the natural disaster that raged beneath his composed surface. No _obvious _signs but there were signs. Elijah could see it in the faintest smudge of purple beneath his eyes; evidence he hadn't been getting enough sleep. There was also the tightness of his jaw from his shot nerves and a low ache above his right eye. He was a mess and it was _her _fault. No one had ever managed to tangle him up like she did.

And he _detested _her for it.

He _detested _her for turning his ordered world into chaos.

It wasn't right. Katerina was a monster, a siren, a small piece of hell sent to walk the earth, sent to taunt him. What had he done to deserve this? What manner of act had he committed that had cursed _him_ to love _her_? She betrayed him, lied to him, made him break his word. She opened him up then slammed the door in his face and even as he heard the locks clicking shut, his fists pounded against it until they were raw. His dignity lay in shreds at her feet. His heart riddled with punctures from her nails. His blood draped over her full, curving lips. He saw himself reflected in her eyes, saw the desperate man he became.

And he _detested _himself.

It _wasn't_ right but perhaps it was just as much his fault. He allowed it to happen again and again. Continued to search for her, like he did now, like he did every time with the hope that she had changed. She never did but still he had hope that his efforts would reap a different outcome.

Truly, he was the definition of insane.

* * *

The room was cold and heaving with shadows. Walls made of cement were stained with strands of black grime where water dripped from the ceiling. The droplets hit the floor with a steady, unnerving beat. It was a room to breed fear and despair. _Typical_, Katherine thought with derision. Marcel was an idiot if he thought she had not been kept in such a room before.

It was obvious from whom Marcel had learned his tricks. She could see it in the hard, cold chair she sat on, under a flickering naked bulb. This bulb served as the sole source of light in her dismal prison. Steel cuffs at her wrists and ankles held her in place. She tugged at them, hissing when bare skin came into contact with vervain. _Yup_, she thought. _So Klaus._

And the smallest twinge of fear accompanied that thought.

When Marcel entered the room, it was not with fanfare and trumpets, violence and heat. She expected this. This was what she had gauged from his mannerisms. She was wrong. There was no malice in his dark eyes nor a double meaning in his smile. His face was perfect, friendly mask. It shook her more than if he had been open about his intentions. Katherine was terrified of guessing games, terrified of the blindness it brought.

"You're up," Marcel commented.

Katherine Pierce reared to the surface with a derisive snort. "Your powers of observation are _incredible_."

Marcel laughed, light and without pretense. "I like your spunk. It's cute."

She flashed her teeth at him. "Don't patronize me, Marcel. I'm not your entertainment."

He was inches away in a heartbeat, cool breath fanning her face, eyes so cold and unyielding her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he raised his hand to trace his fingers down the silken skin of her throat. His lips curved when he felt her swallow, saw the brief flash of dread across her face.

"I think you'll find, Katherine, that you're whatever I want you to be," he murmured, dragging his lips across her earlobe. "This is _my _city and _you_, beautiful, are _mine_."

She shivered as he retreated a few steps. "I'm not yours," she whispered.

Mirth danced across his face at her words. "Is that so?"

She lifted her chin, voice stronger. "I've been property once before."

"And?"

"I hung myself." Katherine was proud of herself, had always been proud of herself. "I turned myself into a creature that could never be owned again."

"I beg to differ."

Katherine saw the flash of the knife's blade but did not have time to even flinch before it struck her. It was a sharp, searing pain. She glanced down at her chest, saw the crude hilt protruding from her flesh. It was the last thing she registered before everything faded to black.

Marcel's eyes never left Klaus' doppelganger. He watched as crimson stained her tight slate-coloured top. He'd known of this woman before he'd glimpsed her fifty years earlier in a dim, smoky bar. He had not known who she was and she had disappeared before he'd had the chance to find out. Klaus had spoken of her often though when he had been drinking.  
_  
Marcellus glanced with amusement at his creator, more of a father to him than his real father ever was. "I have heard this tale a hundred times over, Klaus. I feel as if I was there to witness it."_

_Klaus was not amused; his expression darkened. "And yet I sense you have gained nothing from it."_

_"Tis untrue," he protested. "I have learned never to underestimate your opponent. What more is there to gain?"_

_The man beside him erupted into mirthless laughter as Elijah appeared beside them at the bar, his hand coming down on Klaus' shoulder. Marcellus took a moment to study the new arrival. Impeccable and suave, Elijah was, Marcellus found, the most deceiving of the Originals. Unlike his siblings, Elijah disguised his ruthlessness beneath manners and poise. A chilling mask. Marcellus had witnessed him pull a man's heart from his chest without blinking. It was for this that, out of all the Originals, Elijah unsettled Marcellus most._

_"Brother," said Original began. "I fear you may have overindulged."_

_"Elijah," Klaus exclaimed. Marcellus detected the irritation in his eyes; Klaus detested being told what to do. "Join us, brother."_

_"I think you have had quite enough, Niklaus." Marcellus felt rather than saw Elijah's stern eyes upon him. "Must this be the result of every evening spent in each other's company?" he asked, somewhat exasperated._

_Marcellus shrugged, feeling like a scolded child. "Tis not by my choice. I cannot stop him."_

_Klaus turned his attention to his elder brother and Marcellus recognized the malice in his grin. "Forgive me, Elijah. I was telling him of_ her."

_Elijah went stiff, muscles tightening, stance rigid but it was his eyes that gave him away most. There was turmoil in them unlike Marcellus had ever witnessed in the composed Original, or in anyone. They roiled like stormy sea, terrifying and shadowed. It was gone a second later, replaced with a stoic mask._

_"I see, brother," Elijah replied, careful to keep emotion out of his voice._

_"Tell him, Elijah," Klaus ordered, taking a sip of his bourbon, obviously enjoying his brother's grief. "Tell Marcellus of our Katerina. You knew her better than I."_

_"I do not care to live in the past, Niklaus," came the brisk, slightly sharp reply._

_Klaus feigned disappointment. "Such a bloody downer."_

_Ignoring the jibe, Elijah drew money from his pocket and placed it on the gleaming wooden surface. "When you are quite done dragging our family name through the dirt, there is a carriage waiting outside to take you home."_

_Once Elijah was gone, Klaus leaned over to Marcellus, tilting his glass in the direction his brother had taken. "Remember that, Marcellus. It is the crux of the story."_

_His eyebrows furrowed, not comprehending. "I do not understand."_

_Klaus downed his drink and slid off the stool, clapping a hand onto Marcellus' shoulder. He leaned in, voice low. "Remember what loving a woman does to a man."_

Marcel brought the knife to his lips, tongue flashing out to taste her blood. _It destroys them_, he thought._  
_

* * *

The second time Katherine woke was harder than the first. The pain from the knife still lingered around her heart, unable to heal without more blood. Katherine cursed her newly turned body. It was making her weakness obvious. She shifted, trying to ease the tension in her muscles from being cramped in one position for so long, but it was futile. The chair was hard and cold and unyielding. These were not qualities that could be associated with comfort.

Someone cleared their throat and her head snapped up. Katherine flinched when she found Marcel seated opposite her, knees almost brushing hers, hands cupping his chin, watching her with contemplative eyes. It threw her off, though she was at a loss as to explain why. Katherine was used to being watched, to having eyes on her. Harsh eyes. Lust-filled eyes. Terrified eyes. Broken eyes. Eyes that promised death. These eyes were probably the kindest she'd seen in a while. And yet, she found herself pressing against the back of the chair in a useless attempt to put some distance between her and Marcel.

"Remember what loving a woman does to a man." His voice, though warm enough, made her freeze. "I never _fully_ understood what he meant by that until he showed me."

He stood up, knees brushing hers, causing her to wince as though he had struck her. Marcel grinned at her reaction and Katherine felt shame flicker through her. She was stronger than this. She had lived through worse.

"So jumpy," he teased.

"Anything less than five star accommodation does that to me," she snapped back.

Chuckling, Marcel approached a table that sat against the adjacent wall. His back faced her and Katherine craned her neck to see what he was doing. A part of her needed to know; another part of her dreaded to know. It was almost certain to cause her pain.

"He said you were like an open flame," Marcel commented. "He was right."

"Klaus," she said, managing to keep her voice even as her stomach knotted. "Klaus said that."

"Remember what loving a woman does to a man," Marcel repeated, facing her. In his one hand was a jar of greenish liquid and in the other a knife.

"I assume there's a point to that statement."

"It was seeing Elijah that made me understand," Marcel continued as he sat down, placing the jar beside him and dipping the knife in. The scent of vervain hit her and she bit her lip to keep from whimpering. "His eyes when asked about _you_ showed me what loving a woman does to a man. It _destroys _them. It destroyed Elijah."

Katherine closed her eyes to prevent the tears that had gathered from falling. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Now now, beautiful," Marcel chastised gently. "You mustn't lie to me."

"Rot in hell," she whispered, glaring at him through wet eyes.

He laid the flat side of the blade against her cheek and she cried out as her skin burned. "I don't appreciate the attitude," he said calmly. "Apologize."

"Over my dead body," she gasped out.

Marcel applied more pressure and she screamed, writhing in her seat. He watched her, watched her fight herself and the pain. When she'd lorded over him like a queen, he'd found her desirable. When she'd whimpered and fear had filtered into those coffee-brown eyes, he'd found her lovely. But it was when she writhed in agony and fear had turned to terror that he found her truly beautiful.

"I-I'm sorry," she got out. A single tear trekked down her face.

Smiling, he removed the knife from her skin, watching as the wound began to heal. Katherine sagged against her chair. Her chest heaved, breath whipping through parted lips. Marcel leaned back and realized that there was a piece of the puzzle that his creator had neglected. _Her._

"Klaus missed something."

She glanced at him but said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Marcel dipped the knife in the vervain water. "In his explanation, he neglected to mention what loving a man does to a woman."

He shoved the knife into her thigh, causing a choking sound to tear from her throat, tears flowing down her face as the vervain seared her flesh. He twisted it and she buckled over, biting her lip until it bled to keep herself from screaming, from weakening herself further. She felt his lips brush her ear, sending a shudder through her body.

"It makes them monsters," he murmured. "You are a _monster_."

Katherine agreed.

* * *

She was starving. That was all she could comprehend at the moment. The dread pitted in her stomach was _nothing _compared to the gnawing in her throat or the feeling of parched veins rubbing together. Breathing was becoming harder. She could barely move a finger. Just being a live was a challenge. She had no way of knowing how long she had been without blood. It could have been a few days. She had forgotten how fast a newborn desiccated.

Her eyelids drooped and she didn't have the strength to fight. Perhaps the darkness would allow her some relief.

_She stood in the living room of the Boarding House. A fire roared in the marble fireplace, fanning her face with its warm caress. How did she get here? She tried to recall the last place she'd been but her mind was a blank slate._

_"Bargaining chip," a familiar voice hissed. "That's all you're good for."_

_Katherine flinched and turned. The pale eyes of the brother who loved her too much cut through her. So much anger and hurt and hate reflected in those striking eyes of his. Guilt consumed her. _Apologize_, Marcel's voice echoed in her head. _You_ destroyed_ him.

_"I'm sorry, Damon," she whispered._

_Damon sneered at her. "Too late, Katherine."_

_Her skull cracked against the mirror he threw her against and she cried out, feeling the warmth pool in her hair, sliding down her neck. His hands disappeared from her shoulders. She fell to her knees and braced herself, hands clenching into fists. She waited for the pain, waited for the blows._

_They never came._

_Katherine risked a glance upward and found herself she was no longer in the living room. She was in a hallway lined with lockers. A high school. Damon was nowhere to be found. Pushing herself to her feet, Katherine leaned heavily against the lockers. Relief flooded through her._

_"Hello,_ Katherine."

_The jagged end of a pole pierced her stomach and pinned her to the lockers. She coughed, blood dripping from her lips. Shaking hands wrapped around the pole but found they didn't have the strength to pull it out. Then she heard it. The thumping of her heart. Her_ human_ heart._

_"No," she gasped out._

_"Being human is a gift, Katherine," the voice of her doppelganger said, a sneer on her identical face._

_Katherine's head snapped up and she stared at her shadow self, barely recognizing the hardened, cold girl in front of her as the white dove she had been. "What are you doing, Elena? This isn't you; this is_ me."

_"It turns out we're more alike than I thought." Elena took a step closer and Katherine flinched. "You're not a person, Katherine," she whispered. "You're a disease. You're a_ doppelganger."

_Katherine squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering when warm fingers caressed her jaw, thumb running her over trembling lips. She peered warily through eyes that were suddenly filled with tears and were met with warm hazel ones._

_"S-Stefan?"_

_He smiled at her, that kind, compassionate Stefan-smile that made her feel safe and wanted and loved. "Katherine."_

_It was then she realized the absence of the pole through her stomach. The absence of pain. She was no longer at the school. She was at the quarry, the sun rising to paint the world in lavender and rose. Her lips curved and her eyes dried as the sun hit her face, warming her._

_It was not for long._

_Stefan cried out, falling to his knees, tearing her from her moment of happiness. She watched in horror as his skin began to burn, as the sun's rays took their toll on his body. She fell to her knees, trying to shield him from the sun. He glanced up at her and she saw the blame through his pain, saw the blame in those devastating hazel eyes._

_"You made me this," he accused brokenly. "You're a_ monster."

_Tears stained her skin. "I'm sorry, Stefan."_

_"Monster," he whispered._

You _destroyed _him_, Marcel's voice echoed through her head.  
_  
Her eyes flew open and she gasped. The sound of her ragged breaths echoed through the empty room. She was shaking, she realized, and her undead heart thrummed in her chest like a hummingbird.

_A bargaining chip. A doppelganger. A monster._

Was that all she was? _Yes, Katherine_, a chorus of voices, voices of victims, echoed in her head. _That's all you've ever been._

_A __bargaining chip. A doppelganger. A monster._

Katherine wanted to sob. For the first time in five-hundred years, all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, and sob, and sob. She wanted all this fear and pain and hurt she'd carried inside of her for hundreds of years to be washed away. She wanted to be weak and for it to be okay. She wanted someone to be there for her, wanted someone to pull her into warm, safe, strong arms, to protect her.

She wanted Elijah.

A small, almost imperceptible gasp slipped out. She had admitted it, admitted she wanted the man that had left her, chosen Klaus over her. Twice. What a fool she was. What damned fool to think he loved her. Elijah cared for her, respected her but something told her that, no matter what she did, he would never trust her, never love her.

And you know what? She didn't blame. After all, she was nothing but a bargaining chip, and a doppelganger, and a monster.

And she loathed him for the part he'd played.

For loving him had made her a _monster_.

* * *

Patience. A level head. A methodical plan. These were traits that made him such a successful hunter but it had been a week, an _endless _week since Marcel had taken her. Elijah was becoming desperate, an emotion that did not coincide with patience or levelheadedness. It was what she did to him, threw his ordered world out the window. Elijah was certain some part of him reveled in this chaos, in her.

In _Katerina._

Her name brought an ache to his old heart and a fire to his groin. He hadn't realized how much he needed her. He needed her like he needed blood, like the sun needed to rise, like the earth needed to keep rotating. He needed to feel her breath fanning his face, needed to feel her heartbeat thrumming against his chest, needed to feel her skin against his. And for this need, for missing her, he was a fool.

"You're looking for her."

Elijah glanced up at Rebekah from the desk he sat at, staring at maps of New Orleans. "I gave my word to Niklaus that I would not, Rebekah."

His sister pursed her lips, hands on her hips. "Don't lie to me, Elijah."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You question my integrity, sister?"

"Well if there was one thing I would go behind Nik's back for, it would be for love."

"That would be unwise, considering our brother's opinion on such things," Elijah replied, "and his means of dealing with those who cross him."

"So you understand the risk you're putting yourself at?" She held up a hand to silence him. "You don't have to admit it, Elijah. I know you. You wouldn't _be_ you if you didn't find her. I just hope she's worth it."

Rebekah left, her words lingered though and Elijah turned them over. Was she worth it? Katerina's face went on repeat in his head, tormenting him like she had for centuries.

The last day she had been human all those years ago.

Her face when he had compelled her to stay in that tomb.

The way she had pleaded with him to run away with her.

Her face when he had refused.

Yes, she was worth it, unless she wasn't. With Katerina, it was impossible to tell. It was like playing Russian roulette. Losing meant losing everything. Winning meant winning everything. There was no medium ground. Perhaps he thrived on this? Elijah ran a hand through his hair. A rare, uncontrolled movement for him. What a sick man he was.

And she was his cause and cure.

He had to find her, or die trying.

His phone vibrated and Elijah whipped it out, holding it to his ear. "Yes?"

_"I found her."_

Elijah was already moving towards the door. "Where?"

* * *

**What do you think? Yay or nay?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here it is, darlings! The next revamped chapter of _Too Many Words_. I hope you enjoy it. I also found a song that epitomizes this chapter. **

**\- imaginationismymuse**

* * *

**Shattered  
**\- **Trading Yesterday**

Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding  
Fall into your sunlight  
The future's open wide, beyond believing  
To know why, hope dies

Losing what was found, a world so hollow  
Suspended in a compromise  
The silence of this sound is soon to follow  
Somehow, sundown

And finding answers  
Is forgetting all of the questions we called home  
Passing the graves of the unknown

As reason clouds my eyes, with splendor fading  
Illusions of the sunlight  
And a reflection of a lie will keep me waiting  
With love gone, for so long

And this day's ending  
Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know  
Knowing that faith is all I hold

And I've lost who I am and I can't understand  
Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love  
Without love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on  
But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning  
Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart  
Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent  
All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain  
All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over  
There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones  
To the place we belong, and his love will conquer all _[x2]_

Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding  
Fall into your sunlight

* * *

_Part three_

Her fingers were _grey_, tiny veins protruded down to her wrist. Katherine stared at them in horror, trying to calm the breaths that heaved between gritted teeth. It took too much effort to breathe and she needed to conserve her energy, needed to feed. She needed to be _free_.

It was a funny thing actually. The person who craved freedom the most always ended up in the lion's den. Even as a naïve human all those years ago, she'd longed for freedom, for the chance to decide her own fate. It was that longing that drove her into the arms of a man. That led her to keep her child. That drove her to run from Klaus, to turn herself into a creature that couldn't be controlled. It was all rooted in that one desire to be free.

It was pathetic now that she thought about it, and she did. Incarceration did that to a person. She had nothing but time to think and stew about her past, about mistakes she'd made. It was a consuming process. There'd been so many that, even if she was gifted with another five-hundred years, she'd never be able to fix them all.

Five-hundred years wasn't even enough time to fix the ones she _wanted _to.

The door swung open, pulling her from her thoughts. Katherine cringed when Marcel stepped into the room, that same kind smile on his face, that same blade flashing in his hands. He didn't switch the light on, leaving the room dark. Katherine thanked him for this small mercy. She was sure she looked as weak as she felt; she didn't need him to see it too.

"Morning, sunshine, and how are we feeling today?"

She glared daggers at him but said nothing. There was no use in a snapping response that would only serve to amuse him. Katherine would see him to hell for what he'd done to her, for what he'd made her become, or rather for what he'd made her _realize_.

"So, Katherine, I'm curious," he continued conversationally. "How does it feel to know they don't care about you? That they aren't searching for you? How does it feel to be _abandoned_?"

His question was a cruel one and she felt every inch of that cruelty slice through her. "S-screw you," she got out.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" When she didn't reply, he wound his hand around her throat and squeezed, making her choke. Black spots dotted in front of her eyes. "I said, hit a nerve, _didn't I_?"

How she _hated _him. "Y-yes."

He released her, resuming that friendly mask. "That's better. I don't understand why you have to be so difficult."

Marcel flipped the switch and the bulb sprang to life, making Katherine blinked as the sudden light assaulted her eyes. Marcel examined her. It was a sad sight, a far cry from the woman he'd glimpsed fifty years ago. That woman was eye-catching and vibrant. Memorable even though all he'd had was a fleeting glance.

This one was not. She was slumped against the chair, barely enough energy to hold herself up. There were remnants of blood caked on her cheek, purpling bruises on her neck. Her eyes were hateful and bitter and dull, lackluster hair lying flat against her scalp. She was a shadow of the woman he'd brought in here. He almost felt sorry for her. _Almost. _

"You look awful, Katherine."

"_T-thanks_," she muttered.

Marcel circled her and if she could've, she would've squirmed under his scrutiny. "You're desiccating faster than I anticipated." He flicked open her shackles, ignoring her hiss as the vervain tore at her raw wrists. "Stand for me."

She made no attempt to move, hoping he didn't pick up her rapid heartbeat at his request, a request she wasn't sure she could carry out. His hand gripped her chin, forcing her to stare into unyielding brown eyes.

"I said, _stand_, Katherine," he told her coldly, reminding her of Klaus. "Don't make me tell you again."

Swallowing hard, Katherine, using her forearms since her fingers were useless, slowly, painfully pushed herself to her feet. It wasn't for long. Her legs shook, body trembling, and she collapsed onto the dust-covered ground, coughing weakly.

"I c-can't," she rasped, turning pleading eyes to him.

Marcel just grinned, like this was a game. "Stand up, Katherine."

"C-can't," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes at her uselessness.

"I don't think you're trying hard enough." Marcel bent over and gripped her arm, yanking her to her feet. Katherine let out a whimper as her shoulder was torn from its socket. "Now stand."

It was excruciating for Katherine but she locked her muscles, forcing herself to remain upright. She would give him no reason to hurt her even though every inch of her body screamed in protest. Her breath came out in thin gasps between clenched teeth.

"Now walk towards me," Marcel ordered.

She shook her head slowly. "_C-can't_."

"That wasn't a question, Katherine," he barked. "I said, _walk_."

Glaring at him, she lifted one leg. Her other leg shook uncontrollably and she went down, hitting the ground with an uncomfortable thud and a pained cry. She lifted her head, wet eyes cutting into him. Did he have to humiliate her like this? Did he have to make her so aware of her helplessness, of her weakness?

"_S-stop_," she pleaded brokenly, staring at dust-coated fingers. "P-please."

Marcel smiled. "I thought you wanted your free–"

A commotion from beyond the room cut him off. There was a series of yelling, the snapping of bones, the vibrations as bodies hit the hard, unyielding ground. Marcel tensed and he was behind her in a second, hauling her up against him, arm slinging around her throat, her back pressed against his chest. Katherine's eyes locked on the door but she didn't dare hope that whoever it was, was here for her. She wouldn't be able to handle that disappointment.

It went quiet and a set of calm, calculated strides rung out. A shadow beckoned from beneath the door. She held her breath. The door was kicked down and there, silhouetted by the lights coming from the other room, stood Elijah.

Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes, those mesmerizing, intense eyes, met hers. And with that single look he took her breath away, made her heartbeat race, and her skin flushed with heat. All the hatred, the uncertainty, the anger evaporated into meaninglessness and she was just left with a sense of relief, a sense of unwavering happiness.

He'd come for her, for _her_.

Elijah was close to snapping, close to losing the control he so prided himself in. The moment he laid eyes on her the need to rip Marcel's heart out grew to a roaring. It echoed through his head. His Katerina looked so _fragile _held up against Marcel's muscled body. Her skin pale from lack of feeding, desiccation eating away at her. There was crimson staining her top, the sound of her short, laboured breaths, and the worst crime of all, the tears in her coffee-brown eyes. A sin he could never forgive himself for. He had failed her.

"Elijah," Marcel greeted him amiably, lips brushing Katherine's ear, making her tremble. Elijah's eyes narrowed. "My _least _favourite Original."

"Marcellus," he greeted the younger vampire in that cool, even voice of his.

"I must admit, I'm surprised," Marcel admitted. "I'd become convinced you were going to leave the _beautiful_ Miss Katherine here in my care."

Elijah slipped his hands into his pockets. "Then I'm afraid it's going to be a disappointing morning for you, Marcellus."

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Marcel agreed, adjusting the arm around Katherine's throat.

That adjustment was the greatest mistake he ever made. That subtle movement in an effort to appear relaxed brought his arm closer to Katherine's mouth. Using the last vestiges of her strength, Katherine reared her head back, fangs bursting through, and sunk them into Marcel's wrist before he could even comprehend his error. That first long draw was all she needed. Energy flooded through her and for the first time since she'd been captured, a real smile curved her lips.

The room, Elijah, everything faded into the background. Revenge was the only thing on her mind. For the humiliation. For the weakness. For _all _of it, she would damn well have her revenge.

Releasing his wrist, Katherine ground her heel into Marcel's foot. There was a snap as she broke it and he released her. Lifting her elbow, she drove it into his ribs, cracking most of them with the force of her blow. Adrenaline shot through her system as he buckled over, gasping, blood pouring from his mouth. She smirked, lips stained from his blood. It seemed she'd managed to puncture a lung.

Grabbing his shoulders, Katherine let her lips brush his ear as he had done to her. "You were right, Marcel," she whispered. "I _am _a monster."

Her knee connected with his face, sending him sprawling onto the floor behind him. He lay there, groaning, blood pooling on the floor from his broken nose. It was an immensely satisfying sight. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she took a moment to wipe the excess blood from her mouth onto the sleeve of her leather jacket. Elijah brushed passed her to kneel beside the near unconscious figure. Grasping his shoulder, Elijah tossed him against the wall and pinned them there with a single hand to Marcel's chest, inciting another groan from its occupant as the movements jarred his healing ribs.

"Your _cooperation _was much appreciated, Marcellus," he said in that smooth voice of his.

Marcel smiled a bloody smile. "Do I get a prize?" he lisped through his healing teeth.

"Your _reward _is your life. Mark my words though, Marcellus. Should you come near Katerina again, I will not be so merciful. Is that clear?"

"_Crystal_."

Elijah snapped Marcel's neck, letting his body drop to the floor like a lead ball. He took a second to straighten his suit jacket before turning to face her. Katherine swayed unsteadily on her feet. Her energy high gone as quickly as it had come. One mouthful of blood was never going to sustain her for long. Now she fought the waves of dizziness with all she had. She would _not _pass out, not in front of Elijah.

"Katerina," he said her name like a pray, extending his hand. "Shall we go?"

Katherine ignored his hand and began moving towards the door, limbs trembling at the effort to keep herself upright. She reached it after what seemed like an age and sagged heavily against its frame, struggling to regain her breath. Damn her body. She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up to find Elijah staring down at her, rarely shown concern evident across his face. That concern almost broke her, she wanted him so badly.

"I'm fine," she spat through gritted teeth.

Elijah removed his hand. His stoic mask dropped back into place. "I apologize."

Refusing to feel guilty, Katherine pushed off from the doorframe and attempted to take another step. Her heel caught in a groove on the floor and she didn't have the strength to catch herself. Elijah's hand gripped her shoulder once again, holding her up. Katherine allowed him to this time. She had no choice. She _needed _him.

"I need help," she admitted.

It was the first time she had ever uttered those words in his presence, had ever fully acknowledged that she needed him, had ever admitted to being weak. Elijah blinked for a moment then slid his arm around her waist. His fingers were gentle, brushing against the skin where her top had ridden over her hipbone. That simple touch set her skin on fire.

"Lean on me," he instructed.

And with only the briefest hesitation, she did. Elijah's heart soared.

* * *

Katherine lifted a pale hand to cover her eyes as she stepped out into the harsh sunlight. Elijah's eyes traced the raw, red burn marks on her wrist. He followed the line of her leather-clad arm to her throat, still decorated with small, oval bruises. _Fingerprints_, he realized with considerable anger. Her top, speckled with crimson, should have clung to her form but it hung loosely on her. A testament to what she'd been through. Elijah's fingernails dug into the palm of his free hand. She shouldn't have been put through this. He should have protected her.

"You came." Her voice, like music, pulled him from his thoughts.

He glanced down at her and swallowed hard. Her face, though hollow and smudged with blood, still mesmerized him. There was uncertainty in her sunken eyes and he realized, with a stab of hurt, that she'd thought he would leave her, abandon her to a lifetime as Marcel's chew toy.

"You doubted I would." He said it as accusation.

She stared ahead of her, lips set in a thin line. "You've left me before."

"Never when you've needed me, Katerina."

Katherine snorted. "Liar."

"How so?" he challenged.

Pulling away, she faced him. Eyes incredulous, mouth parted slightly in disbelief. "You think I didn't need you back in Mystic Falls?"

"You wanted me to act as a buffer between you and my brother," he replied stiffly. "I don't quantify that as needing me, Katerina."

Hurt blossomed like spring across her features before she banished it, lifting her chin to absorb the weight of his accusation. "You've been alive for a thousand years, Elijah. It's time you got your head out of your ass."

* * *

Elijah lifted Katerina into his arms, cradling her sleeping form against his chest. Exhaustion had won on the drive home. To be honest, he'd welcomed it. Anything to cease the accusations that hung between them like fairy lights. He'd told himself he was justified with his accusation. She had been using him as a wall between herself and his brother. She had used his feelings for her. His anger was natural, just. So why did he feel like he should be the one apologizing?

Looking down at her now, sleeping so peacefully in his arms, he found it hard to muster that anger he'd thought so natural. When Katerina slept, she transformed. When she slept, she was just a woman, not a vampire, not broken, not manipulative. Just a woman. It made him want to reach out, to run his fingers down her cheek and watch her lean into his touch. It made him want what he'd thought they'd had in those briefs moments during the search for the cure.

There was something was different about her. Something had happened, something that went beyond this incident with Marcellus. He had seen it, the shadow in her usually fiery eyes. She was _tired_. Her edges were worn, fraying seams. He had suspected this long before that such a life as she had would eventually become too much to bear but she had never allowed him to see even the merest hints. Now it was all too clear. He had wanted to ask what had caused this break in her mask but then they'd fought and the opportunity had been lost. He sighed as she shifted closer, tucking her head under his chin. Would they ever _not _fight?

"Brother," Klaus greeted him as he stepped through the front door. "I see you broke your word."

Elijah met his brother's unsurprised stare. "You knew I would."

"Of course, you were never able to resist Katerina's lure. It's _pathetic_, really, how you chase after her with stars in your eyes."

"When you find something to live for besides yourself, Niklaus, then we may have this discussion," Elijah told him evenly, starting forward.

"And when we do, I shall say the same thing." Klaus caught his brother's shoulder as he passed by. "It's not loving someone that makes you pitiful, brother. It's _who _you love that makes it so."

"You think I _chose _to love her," Elijah said bitterly. "Loving her is a curse. One I wish I knew how to break."

* * *

_"Loving her is a curse. One I wish I knew how to break."_

His words played through her head like a video tape stuck on record. Did he mean that?

_Of course he did, you stupid girl. Elijah doesn't say things he doesn't mean. _

Oh, God.

_Yeah, you fucked this one up, cupcake. Big time. _

"Shut up," she mumbled.

_It's the truth. _

Her eyes flew open. "I said shut up!"

_Fine but don't say I didn't tell you. _

Katherine curled into a ball, ignoring the tug of needle in her arm (placed there by Elijah to feed her blood intravenously). Tears rolled down her face as she tried to quell her sobs. It was hard when everything inside of her felt like it was shattering.

_"Loving her is a curse. One I wish I knew how to break." _

She was a curse to him. Her love was a _curse _to the only man she'd ever given it to. She gasped out, arms hugging herself. Her heart _hurt_. All the little pieces that glistened on the floor _hurt_. It infuriated her. This was the third time she'd cried for Elijah. She'd let a tear slip for him when she'd run that night five-hundred years ago. She'd let a few more fall when he'd left her to come here. Now she sobbed for the love she'd cursed him with. _I told you so_, the voice in her head piped up.

Two large hands seized her shoulders, shoving her against the headboard. "Katerina, if you don't stop your –" Klaus paused as he took her in. The drenched cheeks. The agonized eyes. "Oh, love, what happened?"

"As if you care," she snarled.

He shrugged, releasing her shoulders. "Your pain does bring me a certain amount of satisfaction," he confessed. "Your tears, however. They merely serve to annoy me."

Her chin jutted out, a silent dare. "Then kill me. You're going to do it anyway. Just kill me and get it over with."

"Don't tempt me, love." His voice was so cold, so serious that she cowered against the headboard. He smirked. "I've granted you a reprieve. You did, after all, save the life of the woman carrying my child."

"I didn't do it for you."

Klaus tilted his head, studying her. "Then what did you do it for? Don't say out of the goodness of your heart. You and I both know you don't have one."

_Monster_, Marcel's voice echoed through her head and she swallowed. "I remembered what it was like. To be a possession of the Mikaelson family. I remembered what it did to me."

Klaus looked thoughtful; that was an unexpected answer. "And what did it do to you?"

"Why are you even _here_, Klaus?"

"Well, _Katerina_, it's quite simple." She winced when he said her name. "Your pitiful sobbing makes it impossible for me to rest."

"Blame your brother," she mumbled.

"And what has he done now?" Klaus asked, obviously amused. "Did he wear the wrong colour tie to go with your blood-stained outfit?"

"He thinks loving me is a curse," she whispered, more to herself than him.

Klaus' eyebrows raised. "You're crying because he hurt your feelings. How exceedingly un-Katherine of you."

"Maybe I don't have any Katherine left in me." Her eyes met his; worn and dull. "Maybe I'm tired. Five-hundred years is a long time to be strong."

"You haven't been strong, Katerina," Klaus said with some amusement. "You've been cowardly. I've chased you for half a century and sacrificing yourself for Hayley is the only _strong _thing I've seen you do."

"You have no _idea _what you're talking about," she hissed. How dare he undermine her. "No _idea _what it's like running from you."

"On the contrary, sweetheart, I've been running from myself for as long as I can remember."

Katherine merely arched an eyebrow. "Are you calling yourself a coward, Klaus?"

"Since I'm feeling charitable, I won't punish you for your impertinence. I'll even let you in on a little secret." He brought his face inches from hers and she held her breath. "It's easy to wear a mask, love. What's _hard _is taking it off."

* * *

**Well, what do you think? I knew we needed a little Klaus-Katherine scene and I wanted it to be something other than the usual violence they're depicted with. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Finally! I know it's been ages but I've finally managed to do it. Honestly, I'm really proud of this chapter. I think it may be my favourite so far. Anyway, as has been my habit with this story, I have a song that so accurately describes this chapter, it's like it was produced for this. **

**I have decided to dedicate this chapter to Medusa Sterling for getting my arse in gear! Thank you, sweetie. **

* * *

**The Silence  
****\- Alexandra Burke**

You lift me up, and knock me down  
I'm never sure just what to feel when you're around  
I speak my heart, but don't know why  
'Cause you don't ever really say what's on your mind

It's like I'm walking on broken glass  
I want to know but I don't want to ask

So say you love me, or say you'll leave me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking  
Just say you want me, or you don't need me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking

It's killing me (love in silence) _[x3]_

You let me in, but then sometimes  
Your empty eyes just make me feel so cold inside  
When I'm with you, it's like rolling dice  
Don't when or how you're going to make me cry

So say you love me, or say you'll leave me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking  
Just say you want me, or you don't need me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking

It's killing me (love in silence) _[x3]_

It's like I'm walking on broken glass  
I want to know but I don't want to ask

'Cause once you say it  
You can't take it back  
If this is the end then please just make it fast

So say you love me, or say you'll leave me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking  
Just say you want me, or you don't need me  
Don't let the silence  
Do the talking

You lift me up, and knock me down  
I'm never sure just what to feel when you're around

* * *

_Part four_

One week.

It's remarkable how drastically one's life can change in that space of time. Katherine had never considered this before. Probably because it had never been relevant. After all, a week seemed like such a trivial thing to a vampire. A blink of an eye. An exhalation of breath. Time meant next to nothing.

For a human, however, a week is a long, long time.

Katherine knew this now. She had been a human and those months had been more drawn-out than all her vampire years put together. Especially those weeks after Silas had drained her, when she had begun aging, when being alive for so long had caught up with her. That grey streak in her hair. That tooth she had coughed up at the Augustine tea party. The crow's feet that had gathered around her eyes. It had thrown into clarity how a week could shake everything a person was.

One week a vampire, timeless and strong; the next a human, timed and weak.

Then vice versa.

One week since Elijah had rescued her from Marcel. One week since she'd been living with the Originals. Something neither she, nor anyone else, would have thought possible. On all accounts it should've qualified as the best week. She was well-fed, slept under the finest silk sheets, and was immortal once again. There had been no death threats, no attempted murders, no attacks of homicidal rage. No formal invitation had been issued but no eviction had been attempted. The best week of her life, right?

Wrong. Hilariously so.

It had been one week of accusatory staring contests and deafening silences between her and Elijah.

One week of torture to the next, it seemed.

A part of her wanted to mend this tense politeness between them. Katherine had never been good at being polite. She wanted it to be over so she didn't have to feel ashamed about how much she wanted him, how much she _needed _him. But how did one fix something so broken? For her and Elijah had been fragmented for so long, she wasn't sure either of them remembered what it was like to be whole.

There had been moments, of course. Flickers of light when Katherine had felt something close to being whole. All those moments had happened in Elijah's arms and she remembered each one with such vividness.

_The first thing Katherine saw when she opened her eyes was a hard, muscled back. It was impossible to miss. She had her nose tucked against the curve of his shoulder, could practically taste the rich scent of man mixed with peppermint and oak. Her eyelashes struck skin with every blink, lips brushing over muscles with every breath. In fact, the entire of length of her seemed to follow his without fault, barring her one leg which was intertwined with his._

_She never slept like this, not even with Damon or Stefan. She had loved both at one time but she had never fallen asleep in their arms. In anyone's arms. It was too vulnerable a state, too personal and close. Katherine didn't like to let her guard down. It was one way to get yourself hurt. There was always __her side of the bed and her bed partner's side. If some poor fool decided he wanted to snuggle, she was not against tossing him out. Katherine Pierce never spent the night tangled in a man's arms._

_Of course, there were exceptions to every rule. Elijah Mikaelson was one such exception. The __man who had hunted her for her immortal life. The man she couldn't seem to shake, and didn't want to as much as she should. __Said man shifted, rousing himself, and Katherine held her breath as he rolled over. Their noses brushing as he stared down at her with those intense, cedar-coloured eyes. Ones she couldn't possibly looked away from. Katherine felt, rather than saw, his fingers brush over her cheek._

_"You stayed," he murmured._

_"Yes."_

_He studied her face for a moment. "Why?"_

_"I don't know."_

_He searched her eyes for a moment, as though he could see passed them and into her head. With those eyes, she almost believed he could. The corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly but he said nothing. He knew that anything he could have said would have ruined the moment, brought up things and feelings that neither she nor him were ready to confront._

_"We should get up," he said instead._

_"Probably."_

_Neither one of them made an effort to move._

Katherine shook her head, bringing herself back to reality. That memory of when they had been on the same wavelength, when it had gone _right,_ was a rare moment for people like them. She knew it had been mutual, that he remembered it like she did. It was for moments like that that she stayed, though it was torture.

"Katherine."

At the sound of her name, Katherine jumped and spun around. Rebekah smirked at her and stepped further into the room, expensive heels clicking against the floorboards.

"Someone's jumpy."

Katherine stiffened. "What are you doing here, Rebekah?"

"This is my house. I can go wherever I please."

"And of all the places you could be, you chose the same room as me?"

Rebekah sighed, draping herself over the chaise that lounged at the end of Katherine's bed. "I'm bored and no one else is here."

"I'm not here for your entertainment."

"Considering my family is letting you live in our house, I'd say you owe us."

Katherine scowled. "I'm not going to be your chew toy, Rebekah. Don't you have another boy to fall in love with?"

Rebekah had Katherine pinned against the wall, one hand around her throat, manicured nails digging into her flesh, before Katherine had the last word out. Her cerulean eyes flashed with rage. It was an expected reaction. Rebekah's temper was, after all, worse than her brother's.

"Let's get something straight here," the blonde Original hissed. "I _loathe _you for what you did to my brothers. The only reason I haven't ripped out your heart and fed it to you is because _Elijah _is an idiot."

"I'll have to thank him for it," Katherine spat. "Right after I thank him for nearly _handing _me over to be sacrificed, _chasing _me for five-hundred years, and _abandoning _me because Klaus can't keep his pants zipped up."

"Don't." Rebekah slammed Katherine's head against the wall. "Don't play the victim here."

"How am I not the victim?"

"You betrayed them."

Katherine let out a short burst of laughter, one that completely lacked any form of humour. "How did _I _betray _them_?"

"You ran."

"Because they were going to _kill _me, Rebekah. It's not like it was for the preservation of mankind either. I was going to _die _because the most powerful creature in the world wanted more power. Why does no one seem to understand that?" Katherine shook off Rebekah's suddenly lax grip. "I didn't run with the intention of ruining Klaus' plans or breaking Elijah's heart. I _ran _because I was _scared_. I was human and I was _scared_."

Rebekah stared at Katherine, uncertain about what had happened five-hundred years ago for the first time. She had only ever heard her brothers' side of the tale. The one that portrayed Katherine as the enemy, the betrayer, the _runner_. Katherine had just been a girl though. A girl who had happened to wear that face. A girl who had run when most would have begged for mercy. Just a girl with a will to live that overrode everything else.

"I'm sorry," Rebekah said without thinking.

Katherine blinked, all her ire draining into confusion. "_What_?

"I'm not saying it again, Katherine. It was painful enough the first time."

"But why are _you _sorry? You didn't do anything."

"I believed them."

* * *

Rebekah had _apologized_. An Original vampire had _apologized _to _her_. The doppelganger. Katherine dropped onto the bed and stared blankly at her feet. A Mikaelson had _apologized _to her. She had said she was sorry. Katherine should apologize, to Elijah. For everything she had ever done. If Rebekah could, surely _she_ could.

That wasn't to say she hadn't tried. She had, multiple times in fact, but every time her throat closed and her mouth refused to cooperate. You see, Katherine knew that an apology was never just an apology. There was always a reaction that went with it. It was the reaction that brought her good intentions to a grinding halt. Katherine was terrified she would shatter this impasse they had reached and that he would make her leave. That her reasons wouldn't be good enough.

And if he did make her leave, she would do just that. She would run off with her tail between her legs to lick her wounds. She wouldn't fight, no matter how much she wanted to. She would run. That was all she was good at, after all. That and ruining lives. Her fists clenched, nails threatening to break the skin. Klaus had been right that first night. She was _weak_.

_It's easy to wear a mask, love_, his voice repeated in her head like a broken radio._ What's hard is taking it off._

Could she still take her mask off?

Was that even possible at this point?

She barely remembered who she had been. There _was_ a vague image in her head of someone sweet and innocent and carefree. Someone in love with the very idea of being in love. Someone Katherine, in all her infinite wisdom, had considered weak. And yet, _Katerina_ had _never _worn a mask. That _human_ who'd become pregnant at seventeen, had her child ripped from her arms, had been banished from her home, that girl had never stopped being herself.

That girl was stronger than Katherine Pierce had ever been.

* * *

"You're a bloody fool. Did you know that? A bloody, bloody _fool_."

Elijah didn't bother to look up from his mother's grimoire, merely turned the page and continued to scan the contents. He knew that tone of voice, had heard it a million times before, and thus knew that arguing was futile. Reacting was also futile. It did not matter how accurate or justified the response was. It would be wrong.

Admittedly, he was still quite surprised when the grimoire flew from his hand. It skittered across the floorboards and hit the wall with a thud. Even a non-reaction was fatal, it seemed. Now he would have to engage. Crossing his ankle over his thigh, he raised an eyebrow at the irate figure who now stood before him, hands jabbed onto her hips and elbows jutted out like knives.

"Was that strictly necessary, Rebekah?"

"You're a fool."

"So you've said."

"Don't be an arse," she snapped. "That's Nik's job."

Elijah waved a hand at the sofa opposite him. "I have business to attend to that requires my immediate attention. If you have something to say, please say it."

Rebekah didn't move to sit. This façade of his, this illusion of control was all a cover, a patterned, pristine throw Elijah used to hide the dirt beneath. It infuriated her. Elijah would not make her clean. She would not live in his bubble of civility, in his delusion of grace. The world was not a civil, gracious place, after all, and she preferred not to sugar coat things. The world was gritty, dark, bloody. She would live that way.

"You need to talk to her," she said bluntly. "This house so is bloody filled with tension it makes my teeth ache and you _know_ how grumpy I get."

"There is nothing to discuss, Rebekah."

Rebekah smiled sweetly. "I'm afraid you've misinterpreted my meaning, _brother_. I'm not _asking _you to speak to her. I'm _telling _you."

His lips quirked at the corners. "Is that so?"

"You chased that woman for five-hundred years, claimed to love her for more. Now she's upstairs and you expect me to believe you have nothing to say to her?"

"That is exactly what I expect because it is the truth."

"And now we come back to that bit about you being a fool. She's _suffered_, Elijah."

His eyes bore into her. "Swapping anecdotes with a person you detest. How unlike you, Rebekah."

"She was scared. That's why she ran." Rebekah shook her head slowly. "I keep putting myself in her place. I don't know how she could _breathe,_ let alone escape."

Elijah stood and crossed the room, movements tight, over controlled. On the edge. He moved to the window, slipping his hand into the pockets of his slacks. She'd hit a nerve, and whilst she had no wish to bring Elijah pain, she knew she had to do something. These two may have been in the same house but for all other intents and purposes, they were worlds apart.

"You have to talk to her."

"If there was something to say, it would have been said."

"Ignorance really isn't your colour, brother."

Elijah faced her, expression stony. "This is not something that can be mended with a few choice words."

"I'm not saying it is. Love is a messy thing but it's better to hurt feelings and have your feelings hurt than to do nothing at all. At least, you'll know you _tried_. You won't have to live with what ifs for the rest of eternity."

"Me and Katerina. It's not that simple."

"It really is but as usual, Elijah, your head is getting in way." Rebekah's expression softened a fraction and she laid a hand on her brother's arm. "This isn't a matter that can be solved by the head. This is a matter for the heart."

* * *

Elijah stared out the window, watching as Hayley tugged a reluctant Katerina onto the grass. He could almost hear her complaining as her heels sunk into the soft grass and the breeze mussed her glimmering curls. She continued though, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, to humour the pregnant werewolf. Rebekah's words ran through his head, a never ending playlist.

_She was scared._

_I don't know how she could_ breathe,_ let alone escape._

Of course, Elijah had considered this. He was a man who, by nature, studied every facet of a situation. He'd just chosen to ignore it. It was not something he was in the habit of doing but it made it easier. Easier to hate her. Easier to hunt her. For five-hundred years until the moment he had seen her in that tomb under the church, it had made his life easier. Seeing her had undone all of that. It was incredible how that hate he had harboured for five-hundred years had so quickly blurred into love and lust and want.

_She appeared first, dressed in black lace, dirt, and suspicion that dripped from her like an ocean tide. She was a different person from whom he'd once known. A different person with a different name and a different character. The same face though. It was that face that he was unable to shake. Somehow the first one he'd loved had faded. _This _was who he associated with that face. _

_Those eyes, coffee rich, filled with fear the moment she saw him. Fingers clawed the rough walls for support. Lips parted to expel his name. It sounded so delicate coming from her lips, lips still stained with the lies she lived on. A vindictive part of him, one still bitter, took pleasure in this reaction._

_"Good evening, Katerina." He kept his voice pleasant, watched her flinch when his lips curved around her name. "Thank you for having the good sense to be frightened."_

_She didn't cower at his words as he expected her to. Her eyes shone with hurt and betrayal. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat to resist from striking her. She had no right to feel hurt, to look at him with such reproach. _

_He turned his attention to the Salvatore boy the new doppelganger fancied. From the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes darken and narrow when he mentioned Elena Gilbert__. He wanted to laugh. How could she not know how pale Elena was in comparison to her? It was almost hilarious to compare the two. They were dark and light. Silk and cotton. Night and day. Comparing them would be like comparing a hurricane and a bird._

_As soon as the Salvatore boy stepped across the threshold, Elijah was already moving. He didn't even need to wait. Of course, she'd try to run. It was in her nature to do so. Run, run, run. At least one thing hadn't changed about her. It was a pity that this was the only quality she had carried over. Her hair, straightened for reasons unknown to him, fell across her face as she jolted to a stop to avoid colliding with him. She raised her chin, clenching her jaw, and his lips twitched. Even now, she refused to submit. It was admirable, admirable but futile. He would make her. Elijah was not a simple man she could twist around her finger._

_"You will not leave until I say so." Her pupils dilated as he compelled her. "When Klaus arrives, he will want to know exactly where you are."_

_She blinked as he turned and strode away. From his position outside the tomb, he heard the way she begged Stefan. Her desperation had him hesitating for the briefest of seconds but then he straightened his shoulders and continued forward. She'd had this coming. She should've known a person couldn't run forever. Eventually you had to get caught. The game had to end.  
_  
The memory faded and Elijah watched through the window as Katerina, in a fit of irritation, kicked off her shoes and stepped forward onto the grass. As soon as her feet touched the grass, she transformed. He swallowed. That smile on her face, one from five-hundred years ago, made his heart skip a beat as she spun in a slow circle, face raised to sun. He ran a hand over his face and scoffed at himself. How proud he had felt resisting her in that tomb, at being one of the men she could count on a single hand that wasn't wrapped around her finger.

Now he realized that was because she had her hand clutched around his heart.

* * *

It was evening when Elijah came down from his study. The sun bathed the hallways in its last pale gold rays. He followed the sound of female voices to the kitchen where he was met with the most unusual sight he had ever encountered. Hayley sat braced between the backdoor's frame, bathing in the last vestiges of warmth and eating an apple. Rebekah leant against the kitchen counter, a glass of white wine in her hand. However, it was the sight of the brunette vampire bent over the stove, stirring something in a pot, which made him stop and stare.

Rebekah, who noticed her brother immediately, raised her glass slightly. "Elijah."

Katherine's head snapped up when Rebekah said his name and Elijah ran his gaze over her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove and the day. The breeze had caused her carefully styled curls to fall into the chocolate waves he remembered her having all those years ago. Her bare face made her more beautiful, if that was possible. She was more _real _now. Then there was her eyes. They were wide and alarmed, like a deer caught in headlights. He hadn't seen her this vulnerable in years. Then she hardened, a blind dropping over her face, and turned back to the stove._ Almost, Katerina,_ he thought._ You were almost there._

"Elijah, are you just going to stand there all night, or are you going to join the fun?"

Elijah cleared his throat and stepped further into the room. "Forgive me, sister. This is quite an unexpected situation."

"Katherine's cooking me dinner," Hayley explained, tossing her apple cork into the foliage.

"Apparently, we're not feeding momma wolf enough," Rebekah interjected dryly.

"I'm eating for two here."

Elijah fetched a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a glass of wine. "Hayley, you should have informed me you weren't getting enough food."

"I didn't say anything. We were in the garden and Katherine just knew."

"I remember what it was like," Katherine said, keeping her gaze firmly on her what she was doing. "I was always hungry." _And alone_, she added silently in her head. _And scared._

"I wouldn't _eat _it though, if I were you, Hayley," Rebekah advised, taking a sip from her glass. "It's probably poisoned."

Katherine tossed the blonde her infamous haughty glare. "As if you could do better."

"I'm a thousand-years old," Rebekah scoffed. "_Of course_, I could do better."

To the untrained eye, it would seem as though this was a hostile exchange. But Elijah saw the grin that played on the corners of his sister's lips, mirroring the mirth in Katherine's suddenly shining chocolate orbs. It threw him. This new dynamic. This new _understanding _between the two of them.

Rebekah drained her glass of wine and clapped her hands. "Come on, Hayley. Baby needs a nap."

"But I'm hungry," the werewolf protested, eyeing the pot.

"Sleep now. Eat later."

Hayley rolled her eyes but allowed Rebekah to guide her out of the kitchen, leaving Katherine and Elijah and a mountain between them. Leaning against the counter, Elijah studied the brunette. She wore dark jeans that molded themselves to her exquisite legs and rear. A maroon camisole that he recognized as his sister's made her olive skin glow. It had a low back, allowing him to see the curve of her spine and shoulder blades. Her feet were, as usual, clad in black stilettos. Katherine wiped a hand over her forehead and reached back to pull her hair into a knot at the base of her neck. Elijah took a large sip of wine. God, how he wanted her.

"Can you pass me the oregano?"

He blinked. The first thing she had said to him in a week and she was asking for a _spice_. Elijah resisted the urge to laugh at that and handed her the small porcelain bowl of dried leaves. Katherine added a dash to her soup, stirred then lifted the spoon to her full lips, tongue darting out to taste. She nodded to herself and placed the spoon in the sink, wiping her hands on the dish cloth. Elijah watched these mannerisms with keen interest.

"I didn't know you could cook."

She barely spared him a glance as she began wiping down the counters. "My mother taught me. She used to tell me that cooking was the one area that women bested men. It was important to cultivate it."

Elijah mulled over this answer, swirling his wine. It offered him another insight into her head. She was such a complex creature. Every time he peeled back a layer, there was another.

"And did you agree?"

"No. I did it because it relaxed me. It still does."

"How so?"

Katherine paused, brow furrowing slightly. "Why do you want to know?"

Because the urge to smooth the wrinkle between her brows was so strong, Elijah busied himself by topping up his glass. "I'm curious. You never told me you could cook."

"I might've, if you'd bothered to stick around."

_And the elephant in the room lets out a mighty roar. _"I had to leave, Katerina."

"You never _had _to do anything, Elijah. You _chose _to."

"I made a promise."

"Forever and always," Katherine recited bitterly. "I know."

Elijah set down his wine glass and stepped towards her. "Katerina –"

"No. This was a mistake." Katherine backed away, throwing the dish towel into the sink. "I shouldn't have come here."

Before Elijah could say another word, she was gone in a flash of golden skin, hard eyes, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Elijah grabbed his glass and down the contents, setting it down before he acted on his impulse to smash it against the wall. That would accomplish nothing. Not that he was accomplishing much in the other sense. There was so much he needed to say to her but the space between them was filled with harsh words and resentment. Talking led to fighting and then to running. Always running.

"Go after her for God's sake."

Elijah turned and found Rebekah leaning against the doorframe. "She needs space."

Rebekah walked up to him. "You haven't played this game in a while, Elijah, so I'm going to explain it to you. If she has space, she's going to overthink things and she's going to run. She runs. You lose her. Now go after her, or you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it."

"Sister, please stop giving our brother foolish advice," another voice suggested.

She whirled around, eyes narrowing at the sight of Klaus' smug grin. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Consider yourself excused."

"You wanker," she growled. "And what right do you have to criticize my advice? You don't even _have _a heart."

"True but I have a head. Elijah's done nothing wrong. If anything, Katerina should be grovelling before him."

"You're the one who should be grovelling."

"I've done nothing, little sister."

Rebekah threw her hands in the air. "Are you insane? You're insane. You have to be not see that this is _your _doing as well. Your insistence of his loyalty to you."

"Family above all," Klaus retorted. "We swore this to each other a thousand-years ago."

"And you've used it to your best advantage, haven't you, Nik?" Rebekah snarled. "Spouting _always and forever _when it suits you and daggering us when it doesn't."

Klaus gave a long suffering sigh. "It's time you let your childish grudge go, sister."

"You spend ninety years locked in a box and see how forgiving you feel," Rebekah shot back. "Elijah has spent his existence trying to give you peace. Let him have it since you seem so determined to deny it for yourself."

Elijah watched this back-and-forth between his siblings with amusement. There would be no agreeable end to this discussion. Both Niklaus and Rebekah were too stubborn to give in. Elijah straightened his suit and blurred out the backdoor. His siblings would not notice his absence. They were too involved in this inane spat.

_She runs. You lose her._

He had to find her before he lost her. He had lost her before and he did not intend to let her slip between his fingers again, not when she had come to him, not when they had been so close to happiness. He wouldn't let this silence that lingered between them ruin them.

* * *

**Here we go, my darlings. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! If I gave titles to chapters, this would be called _Fools and Rebekah_. I really enjoyed her starring role. She's fun to write and I hope I did her justice. **

**Leave me a little review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**My beautiful readers, welcome to the final chapter of _Too Many Words. _I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. It was so hard ending this story but I feel like this was the right moment otherwise it would have gone on forever. Thank you for all your support during the revamp of this story. I would never have completed it without that (*cough* Medusa Sterling *cough*).**

**I do have another story _Fast Blood _(DamonxOC) and a couple of oneshots involving Katherine mostly (she's my favourite). **

**Alright, enough shameless advertising. Enjoy this, my lovelies, and let me know what you think.**

**\- imaginationismymuse**

* * *

**Human  
\- Daughter **

Woken up like an animal  
Teeth ready for sinking  
My mind's lost in bleak visions  
I've tried to escaped but keep sinking

Limbs lost to a dead weight stake  
Skull caged like a prison  
And he's lost faith he'll ever see again  
So maybe he thought of me once then

Underneath the skin there's a human  
Buried deep within there's a human  
And despite everything I'm still human  
But I think I'm dying here

Woken up like an animal  
I'm all ready for healing  
My mind's lost with nightmares streaming  
Woken up, kicking and screaming

Take me out of this place I'm in  
Break me out of this shell-like case I'm

Underneath the skin there's a human  
Buried deep within there's a human  
And despite everything I'm still human

I think that I'm still human _[x3]_

Underneath the skin there's a human  
Buried deep within there's a human  
And despite everything I'm still human  
But I think I'm dying here

* * *

_Part five_**  
**

She didn't know how long it had been, how many hours had passed. Had time even been moving? It didn't feel like it. The sun had dropped beneath the horizon and painted the world in shadows, proving that the world around her had not in fact come to a halt. Not that it mattered what the rest of the world was doing. She couldn't care less at this point. She was so close to letting it all go. To switching it off.

A part of her said no. It had been five-hundred years. She couldn't give in now. _I don't turn it off. I deal with it. _She remembered that conversation with Elena. How she'd accused her of being weak and pathetic. She remembered sneering at her lesser counterpart.

Oh, the irony.

Over the long years, she had often considered flipping the switch. It would be easier, so much easier. She'd needed her humanity though. For survival. You had to fear death, fear those cold fingers, that white light to the bone in order to escape from it as many times as she had. Emotions had been a necessity. Until now. Now she didn't want to care whether she lived or died. Why should she? She was just going to spend the rest of eternity alone.

And being alone was no way to live.

If she'd had a friend, perhaps. Or even a vague acquaintance, she might try harder now but she had no one_. _There was Nadia, of course, her mule-headed daughter who bore a frightening resemblance to a sister she'd once had, who deserved so much _more _than what Katherine could offer. Nadia didn't count though. Katherine had already made that decision. If she let Nadia in, she'd just disappoint her and her daughter had had enough disappointment. Katherine had no clue how to be a mother or a friend or even a partner. Those required commitment. A lover. A fling. A flash before death took you. Those were her fortes.

Not commitment.

She rubbed at the tears that tore down her face like rapids, relentless and _irritating_. _Screw this_, she thought angrily. _Screw crying. _She was tired of _crying_, of being _sad_, of feeling like she was falling apart. It was beyond depressing. She was _done. _There was a lot she could take and a lot she had taken but it was over now. She was finished.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" A voice jolted her back to earth. "Are you alright?"

Katherine focused on the middle-aged woman with kind, concerned eyes standing in front of her as the strings attaching her to earth were cut. Elijah. Klaus. Nadia. Fear. Anger. Love. Despair. All those emotions and people and _things _floated into the atmosphere. The weight that had been on her shoulders lifted. It felt like a breath of fresh air. She barely noticed that the colours seemed to become grey and the stars ceased to glow as brightly. All she knew was that she was hungry.

"No," she sniffled. "I'm not."

The woman came closer, patting her shoulder. "Oh, dearie, what happened?"

Her lips curved. She'd paint them scarlet in a moment. "I'm just a little peckish. Perhaps you could help me?"

"Of course." The woman began digging in her purse. "I know a little restaurant a few blocks away that make the most beautiful steak."

"I was looking for something a little rarer than medium." She grasped the woman's shoulders, locking their gazes. "You're going to follow me and you're not going to make a sound."

"I'm going to follow you," the woman repeated, "and I'm not going to make a sound."

"How considerate of you."

Katherine led the woman into an alleyway, behind a dented dumpster. A voice in the back of her head screamed at her. _You're better than this_, it begged. _Remember. _The voice lied. She wasn't better than this. _I'm a monster_, she thought as she sunk her teeth into the woman's neck. The woman struggled silently, heartbeat racing, skin beading with sweat as she went into shock. Katherine just smirked as her prey became weaker. _This_ was who she was.

She barely registered the hand on her shoulder until she was ripped from the woman and slammed against the cool brick wall next to her. The woman slid down the wall, barely alive, silent tears streaming down her face. Katherine's eyes flashed red as she glared up at him, her teeth flashing in the low lights. How dare _he _be here?

"Let me go," she ordered.

Elijah took in the blood smeared around her mouth. It was mouth-watering. "What are you doing, Katerina?"

"Eating." She smirked up at him, arching a brow. "Want to join me?"

"No. I think you've had quite enough."

He released her and leaned down to heal the woman. Katherine leaned back against the wall as he compelled her dinner. No matter. She could find another sucker. Though she was a little disappointed when the woman strolled off into the night without so much as a scratch or a nightmare to keep her awake at night. _What a pity_, she thought, wiping at her lips.

Elijah turned back to face her, a frown on his handsome face. "What has gotten into you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You are not usually this reckless, Katerina. You're smarter than this."

She pushed off the wall, slinking up to him, pressing herself to the front of his suit. "Perhaps I'm feeling a little _adventurous_. Feel like living on the _wild _side?"

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, trying not to give in to her desirability. "What brought this on? You have not spoken to me this whole week."

"I'm over it."

"We have to talk."

"Talking is _boring_," Katherine purred. "I want to play."

"Regardless, it will happen."

Her expression became flat, void of any emotion, and she shrugged him off. "I'm out."

"Katerina –" Her dulled eyes connected with his and his heart stopped. "No. You've abandoned your emotions."

"Yes. And it feels _fantastic._" She circled him, drawing her nail across his chest. "It's been a while since I could just look at you without this searing pain shooting through my heart. I rather enjoy it."

"You need to turn it back on."

"I don't think so."

"Katerina –"

"Don't call me that," she hissed. "Katerina is gone now. _She_ came back for you. She tried and she failed. Too bad, so sad. Katherine is here and she's not going anytime soon."

Elijah smiled sadly. "No, Katerina did not fail. I failed."

"That's true. You left her. Earlier you asked me what happened. Well, I'll tell you." She rose up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips over his ear. "I took the cure. I was _human_."

He jolted, staggering back a step. "What?"

"Your precious, little Elena shoved it down my throat." Katherine shrugged. "I suppose it was fair. I _was_ trying to kill her. Not that she didn't deserve it. The little brat."

"You were human."

"Oh, that's not even the best part." She grasped the side of his face, a vindictive smirk on hers. "Let me show you what you missed, _darling_."

And so she did. She showed him how Elena and Damon had fed her to Silas. She showed him her dying – her tooth, her hair, her heart attack. Her attempted suicide. She lingered on her night with Stefan. She destroyed him in the only way she could. Katherine took his belief that she could look after herself, that his leaving was better for her and wrecked it. Elijah's breath was ragged when she pulled her hand back, eyes so tortured she felt something flicker in her. She snuffed it out immediately. _No, Katherine. _

"You were _dying_," he choked out.

"Yes. Slowly, I might add. Luckily for me, a… _friend_ discovered that since the cure was out of my system I could keep down vampire blood." Katherine swallowed hard, an unwelcome ember of panic burning. "I was on my death bed. It was so close to being over."

"I-I should have been there." Elijah drove his fist into the dumpster, creating a crater in its surface. "You should not have been alone."

Her smile was bitter. "Better late than never for you to realize that. Not that it's going to do you any good. I'm leaving."

"Where will you go?"

"That doesn't concern you. _You _will never see me again."

He grasped her wrist. "Katerina, don't."

"It's too late. I'm done."

"Come back to me," he murmured, drawing her against him, pressing his lips to her curls. "Come back to me, Katerina."

"Dying wasn't the worst part, Elijah." Her teeth were gritted as she forced the words out. "Damon thought it would be fun to mess with my mind. He made me see you. He made me believe you had come back for me."

"If I had known, I would have."

She shoved him away, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes. "Don't lie to me."

"I have never lied to you."

"Like _hell_ you haven't," she spat. "You lied to me every time you claimed to love me. When you love someone, you don't take the first reason and leave. That's not love."

"I left because I was confronted with evidence that showed your love was as much a farce as you claim mine to be."

She let out a short burst of laughter. "You want the truth? Fine. When I contacted you, all you were was a wall between me and Klaus. I used your affection for me. I played you like an instrument."

He stiffened and turned to leave. This was it. It was over. "And you question why I left you, Katerina."

"Then I fell in love with you all over again," she called after him. "I fell right back into the water and you left me to drown." Her legs shook and the weight settled back on her shoulders. Her arms wound around herself. "No. No. No!"

She felt strong arms wind around her. One circled her waist, another hooked under her shoulder blades, and a hand fastened itself to the back of her neck. Her face was tucked into the crook of Elijah's neck and she had no intention of pushing him away. She clutched his suit jacket, not caring that she was wrinkling the expensive fabric, and dragged him closer as tears wracked her body.

Elijah felt his control tear as she sobbed, as her body trembled against his. In truth, he was shaking as well. From fury. From horror. From the terror that gripped his heart. His Katerina had been so close to death. He'd almost lost her. Forever this time. Leaving her had been the single most idiotic thing he had ever done. But now he had her back and he never intended on letting her go. His brother could go to hell. She was his. Always and forever.

"I'm here."

She snorted. "Yeah, for how long?"

"Until you ask me to go."

Katherine pulled her head back. "I have never wanted that."

"Neither have I."

She seemed uncertain, nibbling at her lower lip. "Elijah, am I... am I a monster?"

He thought about this for a moment. "You are capable of monstrous deeds, Katerina, but you are not a monster. You never were."

Her eyes filled and she crashed her lips against his. Their tongues tangled, breaths mingling. The raw need fanned out from their bodies, a wave of heat that penetrated any coldness left in their hearts. He pressed her against the wall of the building, gluing his body to hers. Elijah could still taste her earlier meal on her soft lips. It almost made him groan. How long had he craved this, craved her?

Katherine yanked her head back, those firebrand, liquid eyes captured him. He knew then without a doubt that she would stay, that there would be no more running. She never said the words. Neither did he. After five-hundred years, it wasn't necessary.

They both just knew.

And that meant so much more than words ever could.

Words can lie; eyes cannot.

* * *

**Well, that's it, darlings. Katherine and Elijah found their way and as sad as I am to end this, there's also this relief that at least in some universe these two make it.**


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